


Her Own Kind of Perfect

by calie15



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love Confessions, Protectiveness, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is a complicated a man, but nothing about that frightened Jemma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Own Kind of Perfect

It’s voices that wake Jemma. She stirs, rolling over and shifting her legs, and she groans at the mild, throbbing pain. Stretching seems like a good idea until her thighs burn slightly. So she settles for curling back into a ball and trying to figure out the voices.

Jemma recognizes Bucky’s immediately, mostly because it should be there. The other voice though…She whines slightly as she pulls the blankets down so that the voices aren’t muffled. Still she can pin point the voice, and Jemma is tempted to roll over and ignore the conversation and her own curiosity, because her body was sore and she was tired.

There were so many pieces to Bucky, he was so many different people. That also applied to the bedroom. One night he might be playful, nipping and make her gasp, teasing just a little bit. He’d smile playfully and Jemma would be pleasantly worn out. There were other nights where it was slow and sweaty, where orgasm’s were slow to come and they took their time. Sometimes it was because he was feeling sentimental, sometimes it was because he was feeling alone. His warm skin would stay flush against hers and he’d move slowly inside of her. Then there were nights like the one they had just had, where maybe things were a little rougher, maybe because they were just in the mood, or maybe because something was just wrong. Jemma had experienced three months of Bucky’s ups and downs, and the night before was definitely a down.

In Jemma’s defense it hadn’t been her, but sometimes he was just in a dark place. A mission had sent him there, to much murder at his hands. 

It had been hard and fast. He’d found her in his bed, because he was later then expected, and a metal hand had slid between her legs and moments later when she was wet enough he slid into her from behind and it was over with after that. 

It was a blur of rough thrusts that had her pulling away at times and digging her nails into his skin or clawing at the sheets. Her legs pushed at an angle that he preferred, sometimes uncomfortable. She screamed and sobbed, and was pretty sure once before she came she begged him to stop because it was to much. He’d only given her a second to catch her breath.

When he was done she was a sweaty mess, her thighs wet and sticky. Her thighs ached, the roots of her hair tingled slightly from him pulling them back as he forced her to ride him, and her nipples were sore.

As much as she had wanted to pass out then she hadn’t. Instead she made her way to his shower and cleaned herself silently next to him. When he didn’t face her Jemma had slid a hand up his back and watched him tense. It was another clue that something was wrong. When she came around to stand in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck she was relieved when he pulled her against him.

Jemma remembered mumbling something about him talking to her in the morning as they settled back into the bed.

It wasn’t morning though, at least not by a normal persons standards. It was four in the morning and still dark out.

Awake enough at that point, Jemma stood, naked, and moved towards the door. After pulling it open slightly Steve Rogers voice immediately reached her ears.

Jemma propped her forehead on the door jam and listened carefully, staring at the carpet beneath her feet.

The topic was the mission. What had happened. Why had Bucky taken off after arriving back home. There was concern in Steve’s voice and to his credit he was being very patient with Bucky. Bucky was having none of it, he was guarded, his voice, harsh and annoyed. Contrary to what a stranger might think, Bucky wasn’t always like that. He was usually a very nice person. At the moment though he was angry and seemed to be getting fed up with Steve’s prying.

“This is is serious Bucky. They’re talking about pulling you off active duty. You know if for one minute they think you aren’t stable-.”

“I’m fucking stable, and they can do whatever the hell they want.”

“You don’t think they’d take you in if they thought you were a danger?”

“Give me a break Steve. You know better then that.”

“I do, but they don’t. If they did, or even tried, what about Jemma?”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

Already her heart was pounding a little harder and she regretted not finding out what was wrong with Bucky before hand. 

“What you do doesn’t just affect you anymore. It effects her too. You can’t just kill whoever you want anymore Buck.”

“Why do you think I fucking did it?! Every fucking instinct told me that bringing them in was a bad idea. You said yourself they were a danger. And then that mother fucker started talking to me in Russian and I knew he knew to much about me. When he starts taunting me about finding people I care about and hurting them you better believe I’m going to put a fucking bullet in his head. So everyone else can go to hell.”

“You should have told me.”

Jemma carefully closed the door and walked blindly back to the bed, still reeling from Bucky’s revelation. She curled back in the bed, tucking the comforter around her like a shield, but still felt exposed in the large king bed. There was usually another body in it with her.

It wasn’t that she was scared. Jemma had seen enough, done enough, been exposed to her own danger. It wasn’t fear that troubled her. It was something more complicated. It was Bucky and the things he was constantly dealing with, the things that haunted him, SHIELD always watching him. It was the way he came back from missions sometimes, a little more tainted then he should be, it was the regret on his face. Then there was a new piece to it all. He’d killed for her. Bucky had disobeyed orders and killed.

The door opened and she kept silent and still, but didn’t close her eyes, he wouldn’t see her eyes open while facing away from him. Everything was quiet except for the soft sounds he was making, and then he sighed and settled on the bed. Jemma felt his body behind her, naked, and she relaxed, feeling a little less alone then she had a moment ago.

“I know you’re awake.”

Jemma swallowed.

“You heard didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Jemma whispered into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed again and pressed his face into her shoulder, ignorant of his facial hair scratching her bare skin. “I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say something, but…as soon as I walked in the door it hit me, and for a moment I thought I might walk in here and you were dead.”

Not even Jemma had played that out as to being what had sparked the rough sex. She turned in his embrace and instead of being trouble her heart hurt for him. She brought a hand up to his face and brushed her thumb over his cheek. “But everything's okay.”

“Really? According to Steve he thinks they want to bring me in.”

Jemma shook her head. “You know they are saying that only to scare him. They’re hoping he can talk you down. You know bloody well they aren’t bringing you in, not when they have you lined up on missions for at least the next nine months. They’ll weigh their options and ultimately decide one dead body doesn’t compare to dozens of missions that might be lost by pulling you.”

“Five dead bodies,” Bucky said softly, blue eyes searching hers.

Jemma let his words sink in, she waited for them to trouble her, but they didn’t. Even Jemma had changed in her own way. Jemma had seen what the bad people could do, and if Bucky had a bad feeling from the beginning then she knew that those men weren’t worth it. “I don’t care,” she said firmly. “They were bad people. And if even Captain America is hesitant about bringing them in alive I’m not going to lose sleep over it, and neither are you.” Her own insistence surprised her. Jemma often tried to soothe Bucky’s guilt, but she had never outright told him it was okay to still kill. She breathed deeply to calm herself. “Okay?”

What Jemma hadn’t expected was the small smile on his face.

“You know I love you right?”

Logically it made sense. They were in a serious relationship, something either of them had really ever had, and he had just killed people to keep her safe, so that meant something, but to hear him say it…Jemma released a shaky sigh. “I love you too,” she whispered and leaned in to kiss him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

When they had kissed earlier it was deep, demanding kisses, teeth knocking together and small nips. This time it was slow. His fist didn’t pull at her hair, but he did grasp it gently. 

As he rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs Jemma had sworn earlier she wasn’t having sex with him again for at least twenty-four hours. Except there was something exciting about the revelation that he loved her and the knowledge that the man above her was hers, that there didn’t seem to be anything he wouldn’t do to keep her safe. 

“Go very, very slow,” Jemma whispered against this lips as he slid his erection against her dampening center. 

He made an amused sound and smiled. “I’m sorry, I should have been more careful.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Jemma arched against him and tightened her hold on his neck to pull him down for another kiss.

“I know, I heard,” he mumbled as he kissed her again.


End file.
